The Whisper Within Poem by ashok jadhav

I speak in silence, though my lips move not,
And thoughts become the words I cannot voice.
The heart rehearses pleas too deep for sound,
Confession folded in the private mind.
I ask for mercy, guidance, or release,
Yet hear no echo but my own intent.
The questions circle, constant, restless, sharp,
And answers come in shadows, faint and blurred.
I turn within, where conscience meets desire,
And trace the pathways of my wavering soul.
Each sigh becomes a syllable of need,
Each hope a prayer without a witness near.
Perhaps the act itself is all I claim,
To reach, to reckon, to confront my fear.
The sacred lives in thought, in heart, in pause,
A quiet dialogue with what I seek,
And in that inner voice, the self is heard,
Though heaven's ear remains beyond my sight.